Dear Mom: the Carter letters
by Slainte2.0
Summary: Sam Carter reflects on her SG-1 experiences through journal entries written as letters to her mother; the mother who died when Sam was a teenager.


Title: Dear Mom: the Carter letters

Author: Slainte

Category: POV: episode epilogues 

Warnings: None

Pairing: None

Season: S1

Spoilers: Yes, S1; reference to Carter family history in S2 & S3

Rating: PG-13, language (mild)

Summary: Sam Carter reflects through journal entries written as letters to her mother; the mother who died when Sam was a teenager. The journal entries are written as if her mom would actually read them. Due to the classified nature of her work, Sam changes and leaves things out as she would have if she had actually been writing to her mother.

Standard disclaimers apply. No copyright infringement intended. No money was involved.

Dear Mom: the Carter letters

8/97

Dear Mom,

When I got the call to report to Colorado Springs, to Cheyenne Mountain, I only had a few minutes to throw some things into a bag and head out to Andrews. As I was leaving I threw the journal Mark had sent me for my last birthday in my briefcase on my way out the door. This is the perfect time to start a new letter in my new journal.

I haven't seen as much of Mark and his family as I'd like. He's still not ready to set aside his problems with Dad and the Air Force. We do keep in touch with birthday cards and cards at Christmas; he'll send pictures of the kids, too. With his birthday card this year he sent a blue, Air Force blue, leather covered journal. Mark said when he saw it he knew it had my name on it. 

After all these years, Mark is still the only one who knows I write these letters to you. Dad doesn't know, and I never let Jonas see me writing them. Not too long after you were killed, Mark found me writing away in my room, crying. He asked me what I was doing, and I told him the truth hoping that maybe we could make some connection through our grief. Even then, he had started pushing Dad and me away; he was so full of anger. I guess it did make an impression on him, though. Every now and then he sends me a new journal for Christmas or birthday.

So here I am with this brand new journal on a plane headed west to Peterson AFB in Colorado. I should be studying the materials I brought with me, and I will, but first I want to share what's happening with you. 

My project, deep space radar telemetry, has just got a huge break! The problems have been resolved and everything is a go again. For the past year everything has been in a holding pattern. Today that changed.

I have this huge bubble of excitement inside me, with butterflies dancing in my stomach and feeling like waking up on Christmas morning and rushing downstairs to see what's under the tree. It's like the universe is opening up just for me and I'm on the verge of something tremendous. What I have been working toward the last few years is now a reality, and I'm going to be part of that reality. 

Since the Gulf, I've been working in the lab on the theoretical possibilities, no fieldwork, well, except for that one time. Now I'm going to be combining my lab research with on site experience. This is just a *huge* opportunity, something I've been working toward all my life.

It's funny how things work out. Two months ago I ran into General West at a reception at the Pentagon. He had been the project CO until last year. After working the room for a while, General West ended up at my side. He asked how my research was coming along, and we spoke briefly about that. Then he asked if I had read the mission reports from the project. I said I had, of course. He asked if I had ever met Col. O'Neill, the field CO. No, I hadn't had the opportunity, I replied. For a minute, I thought the General was going to say more, but after a pause, he simply said it was good to see me again and moved on to speak to someone else. I thought it was curious at the time. Now the main project is up and running again, it turns out I am going to be part of the field team led by Col. O'Neill. 

After that conversation with the General, I tried to do a little research and tap the grapevine on the Colonel to get some general info. I was surprised at how many blank spaces there were, classified missions that were not part of the public record. He's had a very interesting career from the look of it. I don't know about the other members of the team, yet.

General Hammond, Dad's old friend, heads up the project at Cheyenne Mountain.

I've *got* to look at the reports I've got with me before we land. I'll write more first chance I get.

I wish you were here so I could tell you all this face to face. Writing this letter to you is as close as I can get. I just wanted to share my excitement with you.

Love you,

Sam

*****************

8/97

Dear Mom,

You know I can't write too much detail, so much, well, almost everything, is classified. I'm settling in at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex in Colorado Springs, close to the Academy. George Hammond, Dad's old friend, is currently CO of the deep space radar telemetry project. He took over from General West. General Hammond hasn't changed much since the last time I saw him. He still has that deep, gravelly voice tinged with that Texas accent. I'm looking forward to working with him.

The pace on the Mountain is about double everywhere I've worked before with the exception of when I was in the Gulf. My first day here I didn't even get a chance to unpack. I had to jump right into work, literally. We had a quick briefing; after that it was right to work. When the project started up again, it started with a bang! 

I've already mentioned my team leader is Colonel O'Neill. From what I've seen of him thus far, he lives up to what the grapevine said about him; that he's top notch at what he does, but that he's a maverick and can be sarcastic and mouthy. For once, the grapevine had it right! At our first briefing he was not happy to see me; he wanted to choose his own team. He also said flat out that he didn't like scientists. The whole project revolves around astrophysics, and he says he doesn't like scientists!  Well, I may be a scientist, but I'm also an Air Force officer. I know I can win him over once he gets to know me better.

First thing, I learned the Colonel doesn't have a lot of patience. As we left to go out in the field, I stopped, for just a moment, to admire something at the door. I didn't move quickly enough for him, and he *shoved* me on through! I just needed a minute to look! Anyway, I don't think he'll give me a lot of time to examine anything not directly connected to the project, at least not on his watch. I'll have to remember that and compensate. 

Since my last letter, we've added two new members to the team.

One of the new members is a civilian consultant named Daniel Jackson. He interprets the data that we receive. Dr. Jackson is tops in his field, a very original thinker. You would like him; he's not military at all, more like your typical 'caught up in the work' scholar. I think we are going to get along very well; our brains seem to work in pretty similar ways which is a plus. I hope we'll be able to bounce ideas off each other. Poor Col. O'Neill, now he's got a scientist *and* a civilian scholar on his team. 

Dr. Jackson feels very frustrated, impatient and angry right now. Circumstances have forced him to be separated from his wife, Sherry, and he misses her. I hope, for his sake, they'll be reunited soon, although that may take a miracle.

T is the fourth member. He looks like he was a football player, big and muscled. He doesn't say much, but when he does talk, you listen because you know it's important. He notices everything; he's always on the alert except when he meditates, yes, meditates. He's deep in ways I'm only being to understand. Smart, too, show him something once and he's got it down pat. He's military, so T and the Colonel quickly developed a rapport. The Colonel and I haven't got that rapport thing down yet, remember I'm a scientist, but maybe after a few missions it will develop.

So, all in all, I'm working with a very interesting group of people, and the work here is going to be exciting and challenging. My only reservation about this new post is that I've got to show everyone I can do the job, even though I am a woman. In the past few years it seems like I just get to the stage where I'm accepted for the work I do, then I'm reassigned and it starts over again. If I go in to the new post reserved and quiet, the initial take is I'm a wimp, if I go in assertive, then, of course, I'm a bitch. (Sorry, Mom.) I've got to learn how to project just the right balance. It would make the job so much easier! Okay, that's enough bellyaching from me.

I *will* show them all I'm extremely competent. I *will* learn how to fit into the team. I *will* be the scholar and the warrior. They *will* learn to trust me. Now that I've written those goals down, I feel better already. You know how I work. Identify the problem, brainstorm solutions, implement. Problem solved.

Talking about problems, I haven't seen Dad lately. I try to phone him on a regular basis. He sounds good. He still misses you. We all do. I wish Mark and Dad could work out their problems. I know if you were still here you'd make it happen, but if you were here there wouldn't *be* problems. I feel like I'm letting you down since I can't seem to bring those two stubborn blockheads together. I'd love to see more of Mark and Angie and get more hands-on auntie experience with the kids. I'll keep trying, though, and maybe it will work out one day. Like so many other things in my life, I'll just keep on working toward a solution.

God, Mom, I miss you so much. If anyone ever finds and reads this, I would seem like such a flake, but writing to you helps keep me grounded. I still need you to help me sort out my thoughts, just like when I was little. I hope that writing you these letters, telling you what I'm doing, will keep us connected. I find I desperately need that connection. You left us way too soon. I have too much unfinished business where I could use your help. You were always the one who gave me confidence. You always said just being myself was more than good enough. I haven't had that kind of unquestioning support for a long time. Sometimes, just for a little while, I can find that again when I write to you.

Love you, miss you,

Sam

******************

8/97

Dear Mom,

I've seen Jonas Hanson again, and all the hurt and confusion came rushing back. After we broke up, I wondered whether I had done the right thing by giving back the ring. Seeing him now I realize I was right to listen to my inner voice telling me he wasn't right for me. Was that you, Mom, whispering to me that Jonas really wasn't the man I thought he was?

I remember something from childhood, the story you told Mark and me about each child being given roots and wings. Roots were there to keep us anchored firmly to the important, enduring things of life like family and faith, and wings were there to help us dream and soar as high as we could go, to touch the sky. 

I guess I also thought the concept of roots and wings would also apply in relationships, in a marriage. I know I'm mangling this metaphor, but I always felt Jonas grasped me too tightly. I felt I never would be free to use my wings with him. Something in him made him afraid, and to keep that fear in check he always had to be in control. I couldn't accept that; what hurts the most, though, is that I couldn't help him get beyond that fear. 

Roots and wings - I still hope one day to find someone who'll anchor me solidly in our life together yet love and trust me enough to be proud of who I am and what I can do. It's not too much to ask for, is it? I'm succeeding with the career part of my life; it's the family and relationships part that I'm not managing so well. How did you manage? I know living with Dad couldn't have been easy. 

I just wish you were really here, Mom, so I could talk to you about these things. Dad's not one to talk about 'feelings' or the past, so I don't even go there. I guess I'll just continue to write this stuff down and, maybe, somehow in the process I'll find some answers.

Wish you were here,

Sam

*****************

10/97

Dear Mom,

Yesterday was one of those days from hell. If General Hammond had been less understanding, my Air Force career would have been so over. Looking back, the story I'm about to write sounds like something out of a twisted fairy tale with role reversals, maybe Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Unfortunately, I didn't get to wake the prince with a kiss. Just my luck!

Here's the story. Of course, the base has super tight security. I didn't 

believe anyone could get in without dozens of security checks, but I was wrong.  This woman, let's call her Mata Hari for security reasons, arrived at the gate and demanded to be admitted. It seems some equipment of hers had been sent to the base so Daniel could take a look at it. She showed up knowing a lot about our deep space telemetry project, so General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill thought they should find out how she knew so much. General Hammond had her escorted to our section of the base. Big mistake!

She certainly was a witch, if you know what I mean. Beautiful, voluptuous and sexy. Everything I'm not, unfortunately. (I know, I know, you always told me not to undervalue myself.) Anyway, she started, well, *beguiling* all the men including General Hammond. Once they met her it was like they were under her spell; they were, actually. Instead of a poison apple or spindle, she used a potent psychotropic drug to bewitch them. I thought at least the Colonel could resist, but even he was bewitched. As for Daniel, poor guy, he fell into the deep end of the ocean when he looked into her eyes. T was the only man who seemed able to resist her. Some immune thing of his, I guess.

It got so bad that Dr. Fraiser, our CMO, T and I decided to try to get the upper hand over Mata Hari before she completely took over our section of the base. We needed help, so we gathered the other women working in our section (way too few, of course,) and got to work tracking her down. She had to be captured before she could transform every man on base to be her willing slave with that damn psychotropic drug. 

My big mistake was in trying to capture Mata Hari, I hit General Hammond on the head and knocked him out. I *really* didn't want to hurt him. I was afraid that he wouldn't be happy with me when he woke up. Knocking a superior officer out is *not* a good career move. g 

Dr. Fraiser, Janet, T and I were finally able to break the Colonel free of the drug. With his help we were able to rescue the men before she did too much additional damage, but she escaped before she could be captured. I hope we *never* see her again. What a bitch! Sorry, Mom, I know you never liked to hear that word, but if any female ever fit the description, Ha … Mata Hari did. It took weeks for Daniel to get completely back to normal. 

Fortunately, some good did come out of this experience. General Hammond understood why he had a large, painful lump on his head and forgave me. He even gave both Janet and me commendations for stopping any further damage to the base and personnel. Colonel O'Neill said nice job, too. High praise from him.

During all this commotion, Janet and I really got to know each other. We are well on the way to developing a good, solid friendship. It *has* been lonely around here with much, too much testosterone surrounding me on a daily basis. Janet and I already have plans for lunch on Thursday. I've missed having a woman friend to talk to since I was assigned to the Mountain. 

I'm glad Janet's Air Force, too. With my new team I'm still struggling to find the right balance, how to be 'one of the guys' and fit in, and how to still be me, Sam, but also Samantha, Carter. Although she's a doctor and her situation is not exactly like mine, I hope she'll give me some insights into my particular dilemma. At least we'll be able to talk about some of the issues we both run up against.

Love you, Mom. Writing to you helps me keep my perspective on the crazy things that happen here. Any advice you might be able to pass along is always appreciated; just whisper it to me in my dreams. 

Miss you,

Sam

******************

10/97

Dear Mom,

You know I told you about Janet and me becoming friends. That's working out really well. I'm so glad I got to know her better. I'm discovering she has a *wicked* sense of humor. I love it! It's surprising how much we have in common. 

Her life just got more complicated. She is adopting a little girl, Cassandra, whose family was killed by a very nasty bacterial infection. The team found Cassie alone among her dead relatives on one of our field expeditions and brought her back with us to the base hospital. We thought for a while Cassie wasn't going to make it, either; she was so sick. Janet and I were very worried, and there was some concern that what she had inside her might affect the base, too. Fortunately, nothing bad did happen. There were a few tense moments, though. Cassie was very brave through the whole experience.

It didn't take very long for Cassie to touch all of our hearts. She has a way about her that is so sweet. The Colonel, Daniel and T fell for her, too. Of course, the three of them are just big softies when it comes to children. 

I don't remember if I've mentioned it before, but the Colonel loves dogs. After Cassie recovered, the Colonel brought her a dog of her own, without, of course, checking with Janet first. Good thing Janet likes dogs. Although I don't think she planned to take on a new daughter and a new dog simultaneously, Janet saw how much the dog meant to Cassie, and, of course, they're keeping it. Wow, is Janet's life going to change! I wonder how her cat will adapt to the new additions to the family.

Janet is divorced, so she'll be raising Cassie as a single mom. I'm going to fill in as needed getting more auntie practice, and I know the guys will help, too. It's going to be a difficult adjustment for Cassie having lost her entire family and radically changed her surroundings, but she's made a good start. I think it will work out. 

The whole situation with Cassie made me think more about my future. I keep so busy with the job that I don't seem to have time to develop a relationship that might lead to a family. Seeing Janet with Cassie, though, makes me hope to have children of my own someday. I guess I'll keep that on the back burner for now and concentrate on being a good 'auntie' to Cassie.

I haven't heard from Dad recently. I intend to call on the weekend. He's still not thrilled about my career path away from NASA. If only I could make him understand that what I'm doing now suits me completely. It's the most challenging job I could ever hope to have, and the most exciting. Don't worry, I'll keep trying. One day he'll understand.

Love you,

Sam   

*************

2/98

Dear Mom,

I'm still frozen. I don't think I'll ever get warm again.

My CO, Colonel O'Neill, and I were stuck out on a glacier and plunged into some serious trouble. We were putting up equipment for a new deep space radar telemetry station when a savage storm came up. The Colonel and I were separated from the rest of the team; we tumbled into this big ice crevasse, very cold and very dark. Colonel O'Neill broke his leg and cracked some ribs and I got some nasty bumps and bruises. Fortunately we had our packs with us so I was able to splint his leg. I hadn't splinted anyone before and, according to the Colonel who has had lots of broken bones, my skill level at putting on his splint left something to be desired. It was *very* painful for him. The Colonel doesn't have a lot of patience either, but I think I told you that already.

I tried to reach the others by radio, but with the storm and deep crevasse I couldn't raise anyone to let them know where we were. It was very, very frustrating. I just couldn't get the damn radio to work, no matter how hard I tried. I knew they would be looking for us, but I was afraid we might not be found in time. I'm usually able to think of a solution to a problem, but this time I seemed to be blocked every time I tried something.

Even though he was in a lot of pain, the Colonel wouldn't give up or let me give up. He told me in no uncertain terms that we *would* get out of there. Colonel O'Neill makes you think you can do the impossible, no matter how improbable. He's that kind of leader; he won't accept less than your best. 

The Colonel finally told me to give up trying to get the radio to work and to climb up the crevasse to the surface. Mom, I didn't want to leave him. He was so weak; he had coughed up blood so I knew he was bleeding internally. The Colonel ordered me to leave. I was damned if I was going to let him die in this cold, dark place. I would make it up to the surface and bring back help for him. That climb up to the top was the one of the hardest things I had ever done. I kept sliding back, and time for the Colonel, time to get him help before it was too late, kept sliding away with me.

By the time I got to the surface, the storm was even worse and I couldn't contact anyone. Rather than stay on the surface by myself in the storm, I slid back down to where the Colonel was. At least we wouldn't be alone and could huddle together for warmth. If our time ran out, I knew where I wanted to be. 

Remember when I wrote that Daniel was an original thinker? He finally figured out a way to locate us. We were rescued and taken back to the base hospital. General Hammond surprised me by getting in on the rescue, too. The expression 'just in the nick of time' certainly applied to our rescue. 

Everything is back to normal again, back to the same routine. The Colonel has finally given up teasing me about my splinting techniques and is getting around pretty well on his crutches. My bruises have faded so I don't have that greenish cast to the side of my face, so attractive, green. g

This experience has given me a lot more insight into the Colonel, though. I think I've learned something about myself, too.

Deep space radar telemetry doesn't sound like it would be so damned exciting, but it is, partly because we get off base so often, setting up equipment and gathering data. I know I'm doing work that really matters. Don't worry, though, about the 'adventures' we run into. We're all very well trained, and the four of us watch out for each other. I think Colonel O'Neill must have "no one gets left behind" tattooed somewhere on his body. g General Hammond and the support staff take good care of us all, too. I couldn't be on a better team or assigned to a more important project.

Love you, miss you,     

Sam   

*********************************************************** 

Thanks for reading through to the end! Hope you found it worth the time.

Constructive feedback appreciated.

Slainte


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